Fall and Fall Hard
by LAWchan89
Summary: How do you feel, and how do you cope, when a long kept secret is revealed?  Maka Albarn is about to discover this for herself, while her weapon can do nothing except pick up the pieces.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Another one I wrote awhile back, again a "What if?" Unfortunately a LOT more depressing than others I've written, but the ending will be...somewhat happy.

Rated T for language.

And again, I don't own Soul Eater.

* * *

Fall and Fall Hard, _Part 1_

"So Soul, I guess you're wondering why I called you here," Spirit said casually, striding over to where Soul sat in the Death Scythe's apartment, glugging down a can of soda.

"Actually yeah I was," Soul answered, crushing the empty can in his fist before shooting it into the recycle bin next to the trash. "This wouldn't have anything to do with the ninety-ninth soul Maka and I got last night, does it?"

"You're one soul away from becoming a Death Scythe," Spirit said seriously. "Not only that, but you're the partner of my daughter. I feel obligated to tell you some things you might want to know in regards to becoming a weapon of Lord Death himself—assuming you don't screw up this time."

"Trust me, we won't," Soul said, watching Spirit turn his back to him and sigh deeply. _What is up with this guy lately? He's seemed kinda gloomy for a while. _Normally Spirit acted like he'd had fifteen shots of Espresso whenever he was conversing with Maka or her weapon, but these days it was just…strange. A few weeks ago in the hallway, he had randomly come up to Maka, hugged her tight for a couple minutes, then went on his way as if nothing had happened. Soul shrugged—maybe it was because he and Maka were making quick work of snapping up the one hundred Kishin Eggs, which would make them quite possibly the youngest pair to create a Death Scythe in the history of the Academy. _Yeah, he's just proud of her…that's all it is._

"The Death Scythe is exclusively a weapon for the Grim Reaper to use," Spirit said, turning back to Soul with a strained smile. "Often the hardest part of moving up to this level is the separation of the weapon and the meister who helped him get there. Partners who don't prepare themselves for this often wind up growing distant from and ultimately hating eachother in the end, and I just—"

"Is that what happened with you and Mrs. Albarn?" Soul drawled in an almost challenging tone, and Spirit's shoulders stiffened, his lips pressed tightly together.

"I _just want _you and Maka to start thinking seriously about this. I don't tell this to every student who is about to become a Death Scythe—but you mean a lot to my daughter, and she really cares for you. And the last thing I want is to see her get any more hurt…than she already has." His voice broke on the last word, and he looked quickly away.

"Hey, dude," Soul said quietly, suddenly feeling _very _uncomfortable with a grown man about to start crying in front of him. "I have thought about this, a lot lately. And even though it seems like the most important thing in my life is becoming the ultimate weapon, that's not true. Maka comes first; she always has, ever since she asked me to be her weapon. She's pretty much all I've got and—I'm never gonna let her go."

Spirit looked back at him, then nodded after a few moments, "Thank you, Soul. That was what I was hoping you'd say." He held out his hand, and Soul shook it firmly.

"So…that's it?" Soul asked. _Why the hell did I have to come all the way to his apartment? Couldn't he have told me this tomorrow at school?_

"I guess so," Spirit said, shrugging unenthusiastically.

"Uh, alright then…Let me take a piss and then I'll get outta your hair." Soul made his way to the bathroom, and once he'd finished took a detour through Spirit's study. Lying on the desk was what looked to Soul like a picture of a grand landscape, then a closer look made him realize it was a postcard. A postcard that looked a lot like the ones Maka got from her mom from time to time. _What? No way. Maka's mom is still in contact with her father?_ He picked it up and flipped it over to the written side. No…that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all.

_Dear Maka,_

_I'm heading out on a long mission in the Danish Amish country within the week. That means no phones, no email, no means of contact whatsoever_ _and I'm not at all sure when I'll be able to write to you again. I'm sorry it has to be this way sweetheart, but this opportunity is once in a lifetime. If you graduate before I can write again, or make Soul into a Death Scythe, or both, I just want you to know how proud I am of you and everything you've accomplished. Keep your father in line for me, and keep your partner close to you—I can't stress that enough. I love you so much, and I know you're going to go far, whatever you choose. I promise I'll write you again._

_ Love, Mama_

Something wasn't right here; he knew it in the pit of his stomach. Soul's eyes traveled slowly away from the postcard down to a document Spirit had signed for Lord Death beneath it. He studied the handwriting of the signature, then studied the handwriting on the postcard…he was so livid that he nearly tore the postcard in two. Clutching it in his hand, he rounded the corner back into the living area where Spirit was waiting to show him out.

"What the fuck is this?" Soul didn't even care in the slightest that he had just swore in front of an adult—if this creature could even call himself so.

"A postcard from Maka's mother," Spirit said, his eyes widening at Soul's sudden outburst.

"Addressed to _Maka_? In _your _handwriting?" The young weapon didn't know how much longer he could remain cool in this situation, and Spirit's expression didn't help—it told him everything.

"Soul, you have to understand—"

"You're the shittiest liar in history, and your poker face sucks," Soul snapped, shoving the postcard in Spirit's face. "How long has Maka's mother stopped writing to her?"

"A year," Spirit answered, sinking weak-kneed into the sofa like a child about to be grounded for life. "Since the divorce was finalized. When I got full custody, she took off and nobody could figure out where she was." Soul did recall a brief period where Maka's mother hadn't written to her for months and his meister had been really worried about her. But once the postcards started coming again, Maka had been her bright cheerful self once again, slipping the cards into her scrapbook. Now Soul knew _exactly_ how they had started coming again.

"How could you?" Soul shook his head at the pathetic man before him. "How could you do this to your only daughter?" Spirit was sobbing now, his face in his hands, but Soul didn't care—he wanted to slice him open with his scythe arm blade.

"I couldn't tell her," Spirit choked out. "I couldn't tell Maka that her mother wanted nothing to do with either of us, so I sent the postcards in her place. And now after last month, I just _can't _tell my little girl that—"

"What?" Soul asked as Spirit stopped short. "What can't you tell her?"

"It's noth—"

"Don't you _dare _tell me this is 'nothing'!" Soul seized the front of Spirit's shirt and dragged him up to his eye level. "What happened last month? What the hell does this postcard mean?"

"Kami…my sweet Kami…"

Soul let go of the front of the broken man's shirt and backed up a bit, "You better not be about to say what I think you're going to say." Spirit took out a handkerchief from his back pocket and swiped at his face. "Spirit…Maka's mother isn't…"

"She was killed in the Arctic…over four weeks ago. She was fatally injured and her current weapon nursed her back to health. But she died of pneumonia the next day—on Maka's fifteenth birthday. She's worshiped the ground her mother walks on her entire _life_. How could I possibly _tell her?_"

"You son of a bitch," Soul growled like a wolf on the prowl.

"I just wanted to protect her—"

"_By_ _lying to her_?" Soul shouted, crushing the postcard into a ball in his fist. "You're not protecting her, you're taking the knife that's already in her back and twisting it!" He had to get out of there; he couldn't look at him any longer without wanting to kill him right then and there. "What the hell did Maka do to deserve a father like you?" Leaving Spirit sniveling on the couch, Soul strode out the door and into the night air, climbing aboard his motorbike and taking off back to the apartment he and Maka shared.

_Fuck…now how am __I__ gonna tell her?_

_

* * *

_

_SLAM!_

"Soul, what is wrong with you?" Maka cried, nearly jumping out of her skin as Soul banged the apartment door open so hard the walls shook. Letting the book slip from her hands, she got up from the couch and approached her seething weapon, who kicked over the coffee table forcefully on his way inside.

"You can't trust anyone, Maka," Soul said in a quiet, trembling voice. "I've known it my whole life, and now you know it too."

"What happened, why are you saying stuff like that?" Maka asked gently, reaching out to touch his hand still balled into a tight fist. She looked closer, "What are you holding?"

Soul looked at her for the first time since he got home, his crimson eyes dull and sad. "I went and saw your dad. He wanted to talk to me about becoming a Death Scythe, and I found _this_ when I was about to leave."

He uncurled his fingers to reveal the wadded up postcard, and Maka took it from him and unwrinkled it. "It's a postcard from Mama. But why did _he _have it?"

"Because he wrote it." Best to be straight with her, no beating around the bush. This had been kept from her long enough.

"What are you talking ab—?"

"Compare the handwriting on a postcard before the divorce was finalized to one from after." Maka looked at Soul like he was crazy, her brow furrowed. "Just do it." Maka went over to the bookshelf to grab her scrapbook, then flipped through to an earlier page. Soul could do nothing but watch her as she took out two cards and studied them carefully, knowing that in about two minutes, he was going to break her heart—no, more like break her _soul_.

"I don't believe this," Maka whispered angrily, both hands holding the postcards shaking. "How—how could I have never noticed it before? I didn't think anything of it when Mama stopped writing for awhile—but it all makes sense now." The cards fell from her hands and fluttered down on top of the scrapbook page. She shook her head, "No…no, it doesn't make sense at all. Why would Papa lie to me about something like this? How low can he possibly _stoop_?" Soul sighed deeply, and Maka looked up at him as he ran a hand through his snow white hair. He gazed down at her, and her pleading tear-filled gaze tore him apart, "Soul, _why_?"

"He said he didn't want you to get hurt, so he lied for a year," Soul replied. "You're mother's been missing all this time, no one knew where she was…" He trailed off and deliberately avoided her eyes.

"There's something else," Maka said, watching him intently—she could read him like one of her books.

"It gets worse," Soul nodded. He knelt in front of where she sat on the couch and took both her hands in his, "Your…your mom…"

"Don't be my father, Soul," Maka said a bit harshly, her damp olive green eyes meeting his blood red ones as he struggled to speak. "Don't lie to me."

"She was killed," Soul said in a constricted voice. "In the Arctic…on your birthday." Maka said nothing, not one word, but it didn't matter because Soul could see it plainly on her face—shock, denial, pain, betrayal, sadness, anger, and a thousand other emotions he could not identify. "Maka…"

"No…"

"Maka," he repeated, taking her by the shoulders, trying to force her to see the love and concern in his gaze.

"No!" Maka shouted, jumping up from the couch, Soul following suit as he still held her shoulders firmly.

"Maka, listen—" And then her hand came out of nowhere and slapped him across the face.

"I said _DON'T LIE TO ME!_" Soul's stinging cheek from her slap was nothing compared to the ache in his heart when she screamed those anguished words. He let go and Maka wrenched herself away from him, "_She's not dead!_"

"Yes, she is," Soul said quite calmly. He didn't care if she stabbed him with a kitchen knife next—he was _never _going to lie to her.

"_You're wrong!_" Maka tore from the room and slammed her bedroom door so hard the door frame cracked, leaving Soul alone. As he slumped onto the couch, there was a long loud wail as he heard Maka throwing things against the wall, then finally a crushing of bed springs as his meister flung herself on her bed, screaming a string of tearful profanities into her pillow—cursing her father, cursing her partner and best friend. Soul did nothing but sat with his head in his hands, listening to her, never feeling so helpless in his life. No, this was something he couldn't protect her from.

It was well into the evening before Maka's bedroom door finally creaked open. All the lights in the apartment were out except for the light from Soul's laptop screen in the living room. A soft melancholy piano piece emitted from the speakers, the same one he had played for her when they first met. Soul lay on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as he heard footsteps approaching him.

"Soul…?"

He didn't want to get up; he didn't want to look at her. He could tell by her voice exactly what he would see if he looked and he didn't think he could take it.

"I…I fell asleep." He figured that, since the screaming had stopped a few hours ago. "Soul…please look at me."

Slowly, he swung his legs over the side and stood up to face her. _Oh God…_ Even in the dim light from the monitor, he could see how wretched she looked. He had never seen Maka look so much like a lost and vulnerable little girl—it reminded him of Crona.

"I had a nightmare…where you came home and told me Mama was…" She stepped closer to him tentatively, then slowly she reached up and brushed her fingertips against his cheek where she'd hit him, still red and sore. She gasped softly and her eyes brimmed with tears, her lower lip trembling as she stared from his reddened cheek to his eyes, deep and assuring as they had always been. "It wasn't a dream, was it?"

"Maka, I am so sorry," Soul breathed out in his low, gentle voice, grasping her firmly and pulling her into his arms at the same time Maka flung herself forward, burying herself in his chest. He sat her down on the couch with him and gathered her into his lap, kissing the side of her head as Maka wept quietly, hanging onto her weapon for dear life.

"No, Soul…don't apologize…you did the right thing."

Soul shook his head silently, holding her even closer and stroking her silky blonde hair. "I'm so sorry…that this happened to you." He furiously tried to blink away his own tears and failed, "You're the most beautiful person I know, and you don't deserve this."

"She's gone…Mama's _really gone,_" Maka whimpered, clutching Soul harder—_What am I going to do?_

_

* * *

_

Yes, Soul had told her to stay home from the Academy today and be by herself. Yes, she had done a lot of thinking while alone in the apartment, and that was why—yes, she was at the Academy anyway. Walking almost blindly through the empty hallway, Maka slowly trudged up to the Death Room as if headed for her execution. She had made her decision, and it was for the best for everyone involved.

"Come in!" came a cheerful, foolish voice after Maka had knocked on the door. Slowly she pushed it open and Lord Death looked up from his morning tea. "Hey hey, Maka Albarn! Wassup, wassup?"

"Good morning, Lord Death."

"Now come on, why the gloomy face?" the Reaper asked, waving his enormous hands at her. "If my records aren't mistaken, you're only one soul away from making Soul Eater into a Death Scythe!"

"That's what I wanted to see you about," Maka said softly, staring down at her feet. "I know what happened to my mother."

"Oh dear," Lord Death actually looked a bit shocked. "You were certain to find out sooner or later—I'm terribly sorry for your loss. Kami was a magnificent woman."

"She was my greatest inspiration," Maka replied. "But now that she's gone…" _I have nothing left to live up to_, she finished silently to herself. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she looked up at the Grim Reaper with her most resigned and determined expression.

"Lord Death…I'm dropping out of the DWMA. I resign from being a meister."

* * *

A/N: Part 2 being revised and coming soon! Reviews are cool, so leave one please!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Here's the second part, hope you all enjoy its conclusion!

* * *

_Part 2_

"Wow…this is weird," Liz Thompson said in a passive tone, blowing hard on her freshly polished nails as she sat idly in the circular classroom with the rest of her friends—save for one.

"What is, sis?" her younger sister Patti asked brightly.

"Maka's not in class today," Liz answered, looking at the empty seat beside Soul, who had kept his head buried in his arms since he first plopped down in his seat that morning.

"Ha!" Black Star laughed boisterously, flinging his feet up on the desk and folding his hands behind his head. "There goes her perfect attendance record! Ooh, she's gonna be _crushed_—!"

"Shut up, Black Star," Soul said wearily but harshly, raising his head slightly from his arms.

"Don't you tell the man who'll surpass God to shut up!" Black Star shot at him.

"Black Star, please not now," Tsubaki pleaded, staring anxiously at Sid at his teacher's desk.

"Well I just _did_," Soul challenged his friend, not a trace of a smile on his face.

"You wanna take this outside?"

"Trust me, if I had the energy I'd pound you into the ground," Soul glared at Black Star, and for a few moments they just stared at eachother. But Soul, having been up consoling Maka all the previous night, was too physically and emotionally exhausted to do anything more than that.

"Soul, is something the matter?" Liz asked, leaning over Patti and Death the Kid to look at him concernedly.

"Yeah, there is," Soul said quietly, leaning his head on his arms again.

"Is it Maka?" Tsubaki asked gently. "Is she alright?"

Soul shook his head, "I told her not to come to school today…I'll tell you guys after class."

"Oh, she's at school all right," Kid said, and Soul finally sat up straight at that.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's in my father's office right now," Kid replied, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest. "I saw her go up on my way here—and she didn't look very happy."

_Of course she didn't look happy, _Soul thought tensely. _Her mother's __dead__ for God's sake…and I __told__ her to stay home. Why does she have to act like such a goddamn overachiever all the time?_

"Soul Eater!" came Sid's bellowing voice, and Soul would have jumped ten feet in the air if he wasn't so tired. "Lord Death wants to see you in his office!"

"Shit," Soul muttered to himself, dragging himself out of his chair. The rest of the group looked on anxiously as he trudged out of the class and headed up to the Death Room, and knew they had begun whispering amongst themselves as soon as he left.

_Dammit, Maka…you always gotta make a scene, don't you? _No sooner had he reached the landing that the door to the Death Room swung open, and Soul saw his meister emerge from the darkened doorway.

"I'll speak to Soul privately," he heard Lord Death say quite seriously to Maka, who simply nodded in reply. "Come on inside, Soul!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Soul hissed at her as she drew closer to him. Maka looked up at him briefly with blank, sorrowful eyes before hanging her head and pushing past him, not saying a word. With a long sigh, and knowing that whatever Lord Death had to say could not be anything good, Soul shoved his hands deep into his pockets and walked through the door. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes Soul, this matter is of great importance to you as well," Lord Death said, sipping from his tea with his oversized hands. "Because you're so close to becoming a Death Scythe, we shall have to reassign you immediately."

"Whoa wait, what do you mean 'reassign'?" Soul's eyes narrowed.

"Well obviously you can't become a Death Scythe without a meister, and since Maka's dropped out of the Academy—"

"She's _WHAT?_" Soul spat out, feeling as shocked and dazed as if the headmaster had just given him one of his Reaper chops. And yet at the same time, it explained a lot: why Maka had come here alone and why she had avoided him when he tried to talk to her outside. Now here she went again—making decisions like this without consulting her partner first.

"I…assumed she had told you," Lord Death said uncomfortably—then laughed awkwardly. "Oopsie!"

_Yeah…"Oopsie"…_

_

* * *

_

Maka made her way slowly down the winding staircase to the main floor, wanting nothing more than to go home and take a nice hot bath until Soul got back from school. And _then _they would have to sit down and discuss this together—and knowing Soul, it was not going to be a calm discussion. He was already mad at her for coming to the Academy today. Once he found out that she, strong straight-A student Maka Albarn had quit being a meister, he was going to be downright _pissed off_.

The bell rang signaling the end of class just as Maka rounded the corner—and then she saw him, standing at the end of the hall, coming out of the nurse's office. And her father saw her too, looking at her as if she had caught him with another woman again—genuinely terrified at the expression of deadly anger and deep betrayal on his daughter's face. The man who had lied to her all these long months. Her father, who wasn't even man enough to tell her that her mother was dead. Even after all the witches and demon souls she had dealt with, Maka had _never _hated someone so much in her life.

"Maka," Spirit said softly—and that did it. Maka sprinted down the hallway after him, ignoring all the stares from onlookers as she charged at the man she was forced to call her Papa.

"_YOU BASTARD!_" Maka shrieked at the top of her lungs. All of a sudden, three pairs of arms grabbed her and held her back just as she was about to lunge herself at Spirit.

"Maka!" three voices said at once in utter shock at her outburst.

"_Let me go! I'm gonna kill him!_" Maka continued to scream, struggling to twist and kick herself free of Tsubaki, Liz, and Patti's restraint.

"Maka, get a hold of yourself!" Liz cried out desperately, and even Patti looked a bit frightened. But Spirit simply stood there calmly, lowering his eyes.

"I deserve this," he said in a tight voice as Maka fumed at him, breathing hard through her nostrils. "I deserve every punch you throw at me. But I only did it because I love you, Maka…and I couldn't stand to see you in so much pain."

"You have ten seconds to get out of my sight—_Papa_," Maka spat out the last word with a hatred that pulsed through her veins like the sensation of the Black Blood's madness. Spirit reached out his hand as if to pat the top of her head, then thought better of it as he turned on his heel and walked slowly in the opposite direction.

"What was that all about?" Tsubaki panted heavily as if she'd just run a great distance, lightening her hold as Maka began to relax in her grip. Liz noticed all the onlookers and glared at them, "Alright folks, move along!"

"Yeah, nothing else to see here!" Patti added, waving her arms at the crowd to shoo them away as Tsubaki helped Maka to her feet, waiting until the other students had dispersed before asking again, "Maka, please tell me what's wrong. You just tried to attack your _father_!"

"He's not my father," Maka said shortly.

"Maka, you don't mean that," Tsubaki insisted, keeping a comforting arm around the younger girl's shoulders. Maka shook her head—all the anger had drained from her body in that one fell swoop, and now she just wanted to…she just wanted…

"Where's Soul?" Maka whispered in a choked voice, covering her eyes with her hand to hide her tears. "I just want Soul—I _need_ him." She felt so childish saying it, but it was true.

Tsubaki nodded understandingly, "He's still with Lord Death, we'll—"

"No he's not," came a low, lazy drawl—and the four girls looked up to see Soul standing behind them with Black Star and Kid in tow, both looking more serious than ever before.

"Soul…" Maka walked slowly toward him and once she'd arrived in his arms, broke down completely. "I can't handle this, just—just hold me—"

"_Shh_, I know…I know, just let it out…" Soul whispered, rocking her back and forth as she gently soiled the front of his shirt with her tears. "You shouldn't have come here, Maka…"

"Is _anybody_ gonna explain what's going on?" Liz exclaimed exasperatedly.

"Maka's mother is dead," Kid said gravely, and Black Star nodded as he lowered his eyes to the floor. "Soul just told us everything."

"Wow," Liz breathed in a hushed tone, looking ashamed at inquiring so demandingly. "That's…that's horrible."

"Oh my God," Tsubaki whimpered, her hands flying to her mouth as compassionate tears sparkled in her eyes, and Black Star went over to put his arm around her. "I'm sorry, Maka…" she said quietly as Maka finally raised her head from Soul's chest, wiping her eyes on the back of her wrist.

"If Sid asks, tell him I took Maka home," Soul relayed to the others as he walked Maka to the front doors of the Academy. "You guys can come over later if you want." The others nodded and watched solemnly as they left. It was odd, but to each of them it felt as if when one of their group was suffering, they all felt that pain to some degree as they all stood there, watching the door long after the pair had left through it.

"Is Maka gonna be okay?" Patti finally broke the silence, approaching Kid and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know," Kid answered honestly. "This ordeal has left her incredibly distraught."

"Hey, c'mon Tsubaki," Black Star said, rubbing his weapon's back as she swiped at her tear-stained face. "The last thing Maka wants to see is us crying, too. We gotta be strong for her—like Soul is."

"Right," Tsubaki agreed, sniffling a bit.

"We have to do something for her," Liz said. "I mean, once she's back in class we'll—"

"Maka won't be back in class, Liz," Kid cut her off, and she looked at him in surprise. "She's quit being a meister."

And at that, the other four erupted at once into a loud, shocked, and outraged dialogue.

* * *

The ride back to the apartment on Soul's motorbike was long and wordless, neither of them bothering to break that silence between them. Maka held Soul tightly around the waist the entire ride, her face buried in his shoulder, sniffling occasionally. Soul however could not think of one comforting thing to say to his meister, or now _former _meister—and it was because of this that he was still angry with her. Once they had reached their destination, Soul allowed Maka to take a bath and be alone for a couple of hours while he sat in front of the TV in the living area. Not that he was really watching it, he was merely trying to distract himself from the resentment coupled with immense sorrow welling up inside him. Normally a cool guy like him was pretty good at hiding his feelings, but now that he was on the verge of losing the most important person in the world to him, he didn't think he could hold himself back much longer.

It was around three in the afternoon when Maka finally came out of the bathroom, wearing casual jeans and a t-shirt, squeezing her loose wet hair with a towel as she sat down next to Soul on the couch. "Thank you, Soul," she said with the slightest hint of a smile, "Thanks for being here for me."

"I always am," he responded quietly, looking up at her as she sat beside him. "You feeling better?"

"A little," Maka said with a slight shrug.

"Good," Soul said. "'Cause in about two seconds, I'm gonna kill you."

"Soul, don't you understand why I _had _to?" Maka pleaded, twisting the towel in her hands nervously.

"No Maka, I don't," Soul said forcefully, his temper rising. "One soul, Maka—one more lousy soul. You couldn't hold out that much longer for me?"

"This isn't about you!" Maka said angrily. "How can you be so selfish at a time like this?"

"_I'm _being selfish?" Soul yelled back, jumping up from the couch and facing her dead on. "You're the one who waltzed in to see Lord Death and _quit _without saying a word to me about it first! Did you honestly think this decision wasn't going to affect me at _all_?"

"It's got nothing to do with you!"

"Are you _stupid? _It's got _everything _to do with me! I'm your partner Maka, and what hurts you hurts me too!" Soul paused and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He knew if they kept flying at each other's throats like this Maka would end up crying again, and he couldn't stand it anymore—it broke his heart. He moved to sit close beside her and took her hand in his, "Maka…you're grieving, I understand that. But you can't quit being a scythe meister—it's who you are, it's everything you've worked so hard towards. The Academy needs you, Black Star and Kid and all the others need you." Soul brought his hand slowly up to Maka's face, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb…"_I _need you too, Maka."

"To—to make you into a Death Scythe," Maka offered, feeling the heat of a slight blush rising into her face.

"No…not like that." And before she could move away or stop him, Soul leaned forward and pecked Maka on the lips. She gazed at him wide-eyed as he pulled back from her, but she didn't look angry. In fact, she looked unhappy that he had pulled away.

"Soul," Maka breathed, feeling for his hand against her cheek and covering it with hers. "God…I'm such an idiot."

"You made a mistake, we all do it," Soul shrugged. "But tell me, Maka…how would your mom feel about the choice you've made?"

Maka lowered her eyes for a moment, then looked back up at her partner with that gritty, resolute face she knew he loved, "She'd say I'm being foolish. Mama always told me to keep my partner close to me, no matter what. And the truth is, Soul…that I—"

"_Open up!_" came Black Star's screeching voice through the apartment door as he pounded hard against it, and Soul and Maka jumped apart. "C'mon Maka, we know you're in there!"

Maka got up from couch to let Black Star in, only to see that everyone else in their group was with him as well. "Guys? What're you—?" She suddenly shrieked as Black Star lifted her up easily and slung her over his shoulder.

"Consider this an intervention," Liz said firmly, pushing her way in the door as Black Star carried a kicking, punching Maka over to the arm chair and sat her down in it.

"We're not leaving here until we've convinced you to come back to the Academy," Kid added, staring Maka down with both hands gripping the arms of the chair in perfect symmetry.

"Guys, Soul was just—"

"We know, and we're here to help!" Black Star exclaimed, pushing Kid out of the way. "So get a grip, Maka!"

"We're not just gonna sit back and watch you do this to yourself," Tsubaki said concernedly, kneeling next to Maka on her right. "We care too much about you."

"Yeah, we love you Maka!" Patti said cheerfully, hugging Maka tightly around the neck from behind. Maka looked up at each and every one of them, smiling down at her with such confidence and faith. Then she found Soul's gaze, and he smirked at her in a way that clearly said, _Told you so… _And at last, through the tears flowing down her face, Maka smiled.

"Way to go Tsubaki, you made her cry," Black Star reprimanded his weapon, who hastily blurted out every apology she could think of upon seeing Maka's face.

"No Black Star, it's okay," Maka chuckled, wiping her eyes. "I'm…I'm happy. I feel so lucky…to have all of you in my life, and that you'd come over and yell at me to get my act together shows that—you guys would _never _let me down. So…what kind of person would I be if I let all of _you _down?"

"So you're coming back?" Liz asked hopefully.

Maka got up from the chair and walked over to where Soul stood, slipping her arm around his waist a nodding at him determinedly, "I've got a Death Scythe to create."

"_Ya-HOOOOOO!_" Black Star punched the air in triumph. "I _knew _she wouldn't leave us!"

"Are you kidding?" Tsubaki exclaimed. "It was your idea to charge over here!"

"Yeah, but it worked didn't it?"

"C'mon Maka, _group hug_!" Patti announced, and Maka laughed as she was surrounded and embraced by all the people she cared about—the people she'd do anything for, and they to her in turn. As they dispersed around the room talking excitedly, only she and Soul were left holding onto eachother.

"Are you gonna be alright, Maka?" Soul asked her seriously, seeing that her expression had become grief-stricken again.

"I miss her _so much_," Maka sighed, tightening her hold around his waist. "A few minutes ago, I thought I was completely alone in the world—my Mama's gone, my Papa's nothing more to me than a _liar_, and I thought I had no one to turn to." She shook her head at her own stupidity, "But I was wrong. Thanks to everyone here, I may not be okay right now…but I _will _be." She looked up at Soul with a sincere grin, "Thanks to you most of all, Soul…'cause like my Mama, you've always believed in me."

"You really are something else," Soul said, squeezing her tight. "But you know—if you _had _decided to quit being a meister, I still wouldn't have left you."

"R-really?" Maka asked.

"Lord Death was going to reassign me and I flat out told him 'no, I don't want another meister _ever_.'" He pulled back and pressed his lips to her forehead, "If you go, then I go—'cause there's only one person I'm ever going to resonate my entire mind, body, and soul with. You're more than just my partner and best friend, Maka…you're the greatest thing that's ever happened to me."

Maka sniffled slightly as she smiled up into his deep red eyes, "Right back at you, Soul…"

"Hey, are you two just gonna stand there making goo-goo eyes at eachother?" Black Star yelled over at them. "Come on, let's blow this joint!"

"What do you say, Deathbucks Coffee on me?" Kid announced, and everyone agreed loudly as they headed for the door.

"What d'ya say?" Soul asked his partner.

"I could use a little fun," Maka nodded as Soul made to follow the others out, "Just give me a sec, I'll be right there."

Once Soul had gone, Maka went to the bookshelf and took out her scrapbook. Turning the pages backward, she found the last postcard her mother had actually sent her. In the familiar slanted curvy handwriting, she read her last words:

_Just remember Maka: If you fall and fall hard, don't just lie there and give up. Because there will always be someone worth getting back up for…I love you, sweetheart._

"I love you too, Mama," Maka whispered, holding the card close to her chest. "And I think I understand what you meant now."

Tucking the postcard into her pocket, Maka followed Soul who was waiting for her outside the door—and lacing her fingers through his, they both ran down the hall to catch up with the others.

* * *

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the ending, it took me quite a bit of thinking to come up with it. Reviews are always appreciated!


End file.
